


Do You Hear Me Calling You?

by 1f_this_be_madness



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 70s Queen, A Night at the Opera Era, Affection, Band Fic, Band family is best family, Brian May feels abandoned, Brian May loves science, Crying, Deacy is a sweetheart, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Issues, Freddie has a huge heart, Gen, John Deacon has the driest sense of humour, May Feels, Minor Swearing, Protective Roger Taylor (Queen), References to Depression, Roger Taylor is a fairy child and no one can convince me otherwise, Sad Brian May, Songwriting, The boys at Rockfield Farm, The boys help Brian write a song, constructive criticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 10:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18363959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1f_this_be_madness/pseuds/1f_this_be_madness
Summary: During studio work forA Night At The Opera, Brian thinks about his family.(Or, one possibility of how the Queen song '39 came to be.)





	Do You Hear Me Calling You?

Brian May longs to call his father.

How much time has passed as he sits here in his room on the farm thinking about his choices--his life as a member of Queen, his family, and of some song lyrics he's writing as a love letter to astrophysics and to the very concept of Time--honestly, he has no idea.

He'd volunteered himself by coming here, joining a rock band and starting on a career path completely antithetical to everything expected of him.

_[...] the score brave souls inside for many a lonely day sailed across the milky seas; Ne'er looked back, never feared, never cried._

__

_Don't you hear my call, though you're many years away?_  
_Don't you hear me calling you?_  
_Write your letters in the sand til the day I take your hand in the land that our grandchildren knew!_

Brian's heart weighs heavily within his chest like a dead thing. He wonders if his father can ever, WILL ever be able to understand why Brian had chosen this life and came together with someone through it. And he wonders frantically if he and Chrissie have children someday, will his father ever know them?

_Assembled here the volunteers in the days when lands were few,_

There weren't many options or career avenues for a burgeoning astrophysicist in nineteen-seventy, at least not in Brian's mind. He had already been playing with Tim and Rog as part of Smile, but when Freddie came along and Brian actually quit school in order to pursue his music full-time; when he told his father, that decision (and its fallout) had been an incredible blow.

_[...] their hearts so heavily weigh_  
_For the Earth is old and grey, little darlin', we'll away--but my love this cannot be!_  
_Oh so many years have gone; though I'm older but a year, your mother's eyes from your eyes cry to me._

Brian's mum never said a word against his choice, though she surely must have been worried for him--about his ability to receive a stable income, at the very least. Yet she supported him quietly; it was his father who was at the first vocal and vehemently opposed to Brian's decision, and then he turned silent, bitterly disappointed and disgusted by it.

They have not spoken now in nearly five years.

_All your letters in the sand cannot heal me like your hand-- For my life, still ahead, pity me._

***

Brian sits in the corner of the bedroom, strumming his guitar in a jaunty folk tune of a series of eighth notes, with tears streaming down his face. Hearing the sound of voices from the hall, he looks up but does not bother to wipe the streaks of salt water away.

A knock sounds on his half-open door and Roger sticks his head in, blond hair bouncing as he bobs in time to the beat. "Nice sound you've got there, Brian. I dig it." Catching sight of the look on his face, Roger continues "Whoa--you okay, Bri?"

Brian sniffs and swipes an arm across both cheeks, attempting to offer his friend a smile. Roger doesn't buy it. Tilting his head and shooting Brian a soft look, the other leans himself back through the doorway and utters, high voice as piercing as ever but quiet: "Fred, go grab Deacy and get in here." Brian hears Freddie's warm rich tones making a reply before Roger nods and pulls the door to, coming over to the guitarist and crouching before him. Roger's eyes are warm and concerned as he closely studies his friend's face, reaching out and brushing some of the tears away gently, as more have started to fall. "...What is it, mate?"

Brian swallows and gives his head an aborted shake, long black curls falling over his lean cheeks as he sucks in a breath and lowers his eyes. He feels a warm strong hand take hold of his right shoulder and Roger sits beside him, leaning in a comforting manner against his side just above where Bri's guitar rests beneath his forearm and across his knees.

Brian tries his level best to compose himself and hold back his tears, but this is Roger who's known him the longest and the best. He cannot hide his hurt from him, no matter how hard he tries. Besides, Rog has familial issues of his own. They all do. "I've...been thinking about home, Rogie," he says eventually, tongue clicking a bit as he adds "--and the people I've left behind."

Roger nodded. His fey-like face is set but his eyes remain open, fathomless blue pools of emotion. "It's hard," he speaks up, high voice trembling a bit. "To keep in touch with people, and sometimes you can't." 

Brian dips his head in affirmation of that. Roger has the right of it, and as his darker gaze turns to light directly on his friend, he can tell that Rog understands to whom he is alluding without Bri needing to say it. He sends a thought of thanks out into the universe, glad to have the quick mind of Roger Taylor always by to understand his pain. "So I've been writing this thing," he opens his right hand, gesturing to his acoustic guitar. "It's folksy and so..."

"...Probably won't need a full drumset for backup," Roger grins. "But yeah, I liked what I was hearing. May could use a snare or a bass drum or something. What do you think?" 

Brian nods, expression thoughtful. He is glad to have moved on from his sorrows to speak of the song. "Could do, certainly."

"'Course we'll need to see what Freddie and John think."

There is a rat-a-tat tapping on the door and Freddie's bright voice: "Did someone call for us, darlings?" 

Roger looks to Brian. "Yes, come in," Brian calls. 

The door opens to frame Freddie Mercury, his long dark hair and warm brown eyes, and popping out behind his head is a lighter one with grey-green eyes downcast. John's. Both men enter the room and Freddie leans himself against the bed, bending his back in a bow shape as he touches Brian's hand. John shuffles in and re-closes the door before settling himself onto the floor facing Brian. "Hullo Bri."

"Deacy." Brian bobs his head and squeezes Freddie's hand. "Fred." He clears his throat. "Alright, this is something I've been working up. I want you to hear it. Not sure what to call it yet, but erm. It's something that I think'll hopefully get people to clap along." He swallows hard and goes into the tune, beginning: _"In this here recorded time, assembled here the volunteers in the days when lands were few. Here the ship sailed out into the blue and sunny morn--The sweetest sight ever seen..."_

At first Brian was all-too-aware of the others listening to and studying him, but at about his first chorus he lost himself in the song, feeling Roger bouncing beside him to the beat and adding a little high harmony to the words. When he sings the last phrase and strums the outro, he gets a lump in his throat. 

There is a spell of silence after the song is finished.

Brian peeks up through his curly fringe to see John nodding with his lower lip puffed out a bit. A crease had formed between his brows as he listened intently. 

"...Marvelous, darling," Freddie whispered. His eyes looked a bit shiny. Again John nodded. "That was really good. How long did it take for you to come up with this?"

"I dunno," Brian shrugged. "Few days. Been mulling it over at the back of my mind for a bit longer, though." The others nod, understanding that his thoughts had come from a deep place of real emotion. 

"I think..." John breathes out. "I like it a lot, but the first verse and the repeat might need some tweaking." 

Roger looks sharply over and opens his mouth, appearing ready to chastise, but Brian heads him off with a slight chuckle. "Heh heh, yeah, I did think that needed some work." He pats down his black hair and then taps fingers beneath his nose. "Is it the word choice, you think?"

"Bit awkward," nods John.

Roger lets out a snort. "Right, and Deacy knows all about awkward configurations of words since he doesn't TALK." John's mouth lifts and he grins equably. 

Brian puts his hand on Roger's arm. "It's fine, Rog, really. I could use an honest critique on it." He turns to look at each of his friends in turn, curls a-swing. "Any suggestions?"

"Perhaps..." Freddie leans forward, away from the bed, and points his toes as he glides across the room. "We really ought to put this on the album, and it'd be our--" he flashes a smile at them all "--my maths skills are abysmal, forgive me dears, but..."

"It's our thirty-ninth song," Roger says. 

Freddie beams at him. "Yes, exactly! Well done, Roger love. What if, since you're speaking of Time, Brian, if you included the number thirty-nine? As a day of the year, or the minute when the volunteers departed, for example."

"... _In the year of thirty-nine_ ," mumbles Brian. "Yes!" John jerks his head up as the taller man raises his voice in excitement. "Because they didn't come back at the same time, and it'd be immensely difficult to calculate to a minute; listeners might get confused. But if a _year_ is given, and that same number is when the score return...."

"--But they're returning during another year of that same name, well, number. Right?" John speaks up slowly. The others stare at him, and he shifts a little, self-conscious. "I mean, erm. You said, 'For so many years have gone, though I'm older but a year,'" 

"--'your mother's eyes from your eyes cry to me,'" Roger and John vocalise the last of that lyric in unison, voices hushed with awe. It sends a shiver up Brian's spine.

"Holy shit," Roger murmurs. John lets out a rush of air from his cheeks. "That's some powerful stuff."

"It's a bit of a crash course in time dilation," Brian admits shyly. "And with that addition it works really bloody well. Thank you, Freddie."

Freddie beams and rubs Brian's shoulder. "But of course; happy to help you, dear." And then he adds grandly, "And of course you ought to take lead on singing it."

"What?" Brian coughs out in surprise, eyes bulging. He whips his head round to stare at his friend. "Are you serious, Fred?"

"Of course, you have such a warm gentle voice; this song suits your tone perfectly, Brian. I am more than happy to sing backup."

"For once," Roger says and Freddie winks at him.

"I have no objections," John says in his driest tone of voice.

"Okay," Brian swallows and nods, brightening. It is humbling that the lads have so much faith and trust in him. "Roger will be on the high harmonies. I need your falsetto, Rog."

Roger flourishes his wrist and bows. "Naturally," he says.

"... You can use a bass drum on this. That'll work, I should think. And a tambourine." 

Roger beams. "That's even better than maracas!"

Smiling now, Brian adds "And Deacy, I'll need you to play a double-bass." He grins sideways at Roger, speaking this as a bit of a joke, but John nods at him seriously.

"Okay."

Freddie claps his hands in ecstasy. "Lovely! We'll bring it into the studio next." Brian smiles at his excitement and catches Roger's eye. The drummer grins too and gives Brian a playful nudge. Deacy studies his feet with a warm expression suffusing his ever-open face. 

Brian May at last relaxes. He has within himself a sense of some peace now that he has expressed feelings through song to his dearest friends.

Perhaps he ought to give his father a call.

**Author's Note:**

> '39 is one of my favorite Queen songs. Once I heard the lyrics I couldn't get them out of my head, and started wondering what was going through Brian's mind as he wrote them. Thus this idea was born.
> 
> Thanks to Queen for being such a wonderful band. 
> 
> Please feel free to let me know what you think or if you would like me to continue this piece :) and thank you for reading.


End file.
